


AISO SERIES #7463-8733

by isoscelesfish



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: BillDip, Bipper, Coersion, Deals With The Devil, Extremely Dubious Consent, M/M, Plot, Porn With Plot, bill is like a million, cipherpines, deal with it or don't read, dipper is a sex doll, dipper is sixteen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 06:46:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4091008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isoscelesfish/pseuds/isoscelesfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things have cooled down in Gravity Falls over the years, and the mystery twins are gradually making their respective transitions into adulthood. Unfortunately for Dipper, his trek through puberty apparently involves life as a sex doll.</p>
            </blockquote>





	AISO SERIES #7463-8733

The world was black—black and cold and stale, and Dipper was dreaming. At least, he hoped he was, because if he wasn’t dreaming, he was probably dead. Resting on his back, the teenage boy lay prone in a haze of shadowed darkness that was just this side of impenetrable. It was crushing, suffocating. Dipper’s eyes were open, but he couldn’t see. His mouth was open, but he couldn’t scream. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t sleep. There was nothing—nothing but this awful, endless void.

Dipper could imagine his body rotting under layers of moldering earth and insects, but in the end, it was just that—his imagination, the last flicker of a mind falling into madness. He could feel his limbs, cold, solid, and completely useless. His left arm was stretched out in a perpendicular line to his body, while his right bent at an impossible angle, twisting somewhere behind his back. It didn’t hurt, but he could feel the strain in a vague, detached sort of way, a constant reminder of his continued existence.

His mind wandered for hours, reliving blissful sunlit days and summer mysteries. Faces and names flashed through his mind: Mabel, Grunkle Stan, his parents, Soos, Wendy, Pacifica—even Robbie. For some reason, Gravity Falls stood out like a beacon in his memory, overshadowing the monotony of Piedmont. The Mystery Shack was everything he wanted in a home, and he missed it so much his heart ached. Every second passed like a century, and he felt so cold, so desperately alone. He wanted the dream to end. _Please. Please make it end._

Garish laughter interrupted the thought, a familiar shape brushing the edge of his mind, and sliding easily through the gaping cracks. _You’re losing your mind, kid._ The shrill voice cut through his thoughts, tearing through the peaceful recollections with jagged dissonance. _I can get you out anytime, you know. Just say the word and it’s over._

Bill. It was Bill. Focusing every ounce of desperation in his body, Dipper managed to move his head a fraction of an inch, stiff, unmoving lips quivering with a silent plea.

 _Jeeze, speak up!_ The demon laughed. _I can barely hear you over all the screaming!_

Bill wasn’t visible, but Dipper could feel the triangular monster poking through his mind, upending tables and rattling locked doors. Dipper gave up on moving his mouth and directed his thoughts instead. _Would you just kill me already!?_

 _Haha! No dice, Pine Tree! You know what I want._ A handle snapped, and Dipper felt a lurch in his stomach as the adjoining door swung inward, dousing him in unwelcome recollections. In his panic, he could almost feel the hot palms brush his skin, lifting him up and bending him forward. _One little phrase and the deal’s on._

 _No…No!_ Not this, not again. Bill laughed, testing a few more doors in the boy’s cracked mindscape. Every time Dipper managed to repress these memories, the demon returned, breaking his brittle wards, and forcing him to relive the pain again. No. This was a dream—just a dream. Any second now he would wake up to find his twin sister sleeping on the other side of an attic bedroom, and they’d both be happy, safe, and whole.

 _You better make up your mind, kid._ Spectral fingers snapped, and Dipper was falling through a different door—plummeting down a familiar path that led to the beginning of the end. _We’re running out of time._

“Ugh, dude that’s totally gross! Look, you can pull out its junk!”

“You gonna buy one, Thompson?”

“Bet he is!” Robbie laughed, pulling Tambry closer, as they cuddled on the loveseat. “Bet he’s going to marry it!”

“Status update: Thompson is a total pervert.” The social media addict dictated, typing on her phone as she settled into the crook of her boyfriend’s arm.

The accused—that is to say, Thompson—was standing next to the computer desk with his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on a particularly dark carpet stain. Dipper wasn’t sure who had started it. The group had been hanging in Thompson’s basement, abusing his father’s stock of beer and slowly ruining his mother’s upholstery with food stains and cigarette burns, and—oh right, Wendy had asked to use the computer because her phone died and she was waiting for some guy to email her about plans for the Woodstick Festival. The boy thing was…mildly irritating, but pretty normal. After all, Wendy swapped guys faster than Mabel swapped sweaters. Well, okay, that was an exaggeration, but it felt like the truth. Dipper had been jealous at first, but it wore down eventually. After all, it was obvious she’d never really seen him as an option.

At sixteen, he was still the youngest friend, and the only one without a valid license or the ability to legally purchase cigarettes. The age gap was daunting at times, but hanging with Wendy’s friends still made him feel pretty cool.  It was a nice change from Piedmont, anyway, and nobody really cared that he wasn’t legal. Wendy had skipped the college experience, but Lee and Nate were visiting Gravity Falls for the summer, just like Dipper. Nobody seemed to care what Thompson was doing, unless it became fuel for ridicule. That’s why they were standing around the old desktop, faces twisted in a mix of disgust and joy. Wendy had accidentally (or possibly on purpose) opened Thompson’s browser history, and Thompson apparently had a thing for Asian sex dolls. He’d visited several Japanese websites that specialized in life-sized silicon dolls. Dipper crossed his arms, trying not to think about the whole wax figure fiasco as he watched the cascade of voluptuous curves and pouting lips. Thankfully, they weren't made near Gravity Falls, so the likelihood of Thompson being murdered by a cursed sex doll was pretty slim.

“Dude, let’s fucking make one.” Wendy suggested, scrolling back up to the start menu. “Which body should we start with?”

“Guys, come on…” Thompson protested weakly. “My dad got a couple cases of beer yesterday. He says we can drink if we keep it in the house.”

“Peach Fuzz—go with Peach Fuzz. Look at that rack!”

“Ooooh! Those hips don’t lie, bro!” Lee and Nate gave each other a high five, laughing uproariously.

“Of course, the removable snatch is essential.” Wendy continued, reading out options and selecting them with encouragement from the other members. “What do you think, Thompson? Open or closed?”  She let the cursor hover between two options, and the dew-eyed doll seemed to open and close its mouth like a gulping fish.

“Open.” Dipper snorted. He felt kind of bad for Thompson, but he really couldn’t help himself. “Versatility, right?”

“Wise words from the D.” She said, and ticked the option before continuing down the list. The process was surprisingly complicated, detailing everything from eye-color to the shape of the doll’s fingernails. Robbie and Tambry lost interest pretty quickly, but they were usually content with each other’s company. They both attended the local community college, and Robbie still played guitar for some two-bit emo band. Tambry was apparently studying fashion, but Mabel insisted she couldn’t be serious about it.

Mabel didn’t hang with the group much. She’d never really seen eye to eye with Wendy’s friends, and he knew she was busy with her portfolio for Parson’s, a complicated string of ex-boyfriends, and an undefined relationship with Pacifica Northwest. The latter had kept her busiest during their summer vacation, but he couldn’t blame her. He knew they were trying to arrange a visit during winter break, but it was still long distance…whatever it was.

Dipper, of course, spent most of his time wandering the woods, or hanging with Wendy. He still found her attractive, but he’d pretty much given up on being anything more than friends. Wendy’s tastes angled more toward brawn, and Dipper was all brain—a brain with raging teenage hormones and an over experienced right hand. If he was honest, this doll joke hit a little close to home, and he was starting to feel vaguely uncomfortable. The woman’s lust-blown eyes seemed to stare directly at him, her open mouth promising complete and unconditional acceptance. Dipper couldn’t imagine anyone giving him that look in real life. His few romantic encounters had been awkwardly short and dissatisfying. Still, a doll had to be better than a dry palm, right? The thought of sliding in deep without doubting himself or worrying that he might disappoint his partner sounded better than he wanted to admit, but the samples displayed on the screen were making that truth extremely hard to deny. Dipper shivered, losing track of the conversation as he battled the urge to excuse himself for some privacy. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d used Thompson’s bathroom to clear up a teenage hormonal malfunction, but if he did that now, they’d all guess what he was doing, and Robbie would never let him live it down.

“You okay Dip?” Wendy asked, leaning casually in the computer chair with one leg propped up on the burnt leather seat.

The sixteen-year-old jumped, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie in a casual way he hoped would cover the rising lump in his jeans. Thank god he’d opted for loose fit. Mabel kept trying to sell him on skinny jeans, but after today, he planned to avoid them forever.

“Y-yeah!” Dipper’s voice cracked, “I’m fine—totally fine!”

“Thompson went to get the beer.” She explained. “ Want to print this and put it on his wall?”

“Hell, yeah.” Dipper said, and forced a laugh, but while Wendy was taking the screen-shot, he was eyeing the cost displayed below the completed preview. Shit… four digits?! Dipper had seen _cars_ less than that. Who in their right mind would pay that much for a sex doll?

He would. Damn it all to hell. If he had the money, he would buy one of these stupid dolls. Dipper swore at the empty attic bedroom, staring at the screen with circles under his eyes and a tent in his pants. Mabel was staying at Pacifica’s again, so naturally, he’d spent the entire night acting like a total freak. God, he was pathetic. The fact that he’d even considered this spoke volumes about his self-esteem. Dipper groaned, leaning back against the paneled wall as he tried to scrub the exhaustion from his eyes. When that failed, he glanced reluctantly at the bedroom clock.

It was almost 3:30, he hadn’t even looked at the new code he’d found in the journal, and he was supposed to meet Mabel and Pacifica at Granny’s at 10:00. The screen blurred as Dipper’s eyes struggled to focus. Yeah…it was time to rub one out, clear his browser history, and call it a night. With a yawn, the teenage boy groped in the bedside drawer, fishing out a tube of hand lotion as he freed his erection and scrolled through the line of images.

He had a dollop onto his palm, when the laptop screen dimmed, displaying one of those stupid pop-up messages that greyed out the rest of the screen. Swearing again, Dipper dropped the tube of lotion and fumbled for the mouse. He didn’t mean to click the banner. He hadn’t even read the stupid thing, but suddenly his girl was gone, and a new page was loading, sleek white and black, with a smooth logo and…dolls. They had to be dolls, but the photographs were so real it was hard to believe they weren’t human. This company sold both male and female models, and each face was a paradox of human perfection, symmetrical to the last detail, and yet impossibly soft and organic.

Three quarters down the page, his finger froze on the click-wheel. There she was—tall and thin, with lush curves and a cascade of red hair. She had delicate cheekbones, cheerful brown eyes, and a smile that looked like pure sunshine. Dipper knew her at once, because he’d spent hours trying to replicate that image, deliberating and compromising with options that didn’t quite fit, but here she was, flawless to the last detail. With a guilty lurch, Dipper recognized Wendy’s red hair, Pacifica’s graceful curves, and his sister’s brilliant smile—little details he subconsciously registered as ideal. There was something about the curve of her neck and even the shape of her hands that seemed so familiar...

Dipper couldn’t help it. He clicked the profile and scrolled through the sample photos, saving the images as he went. Then, he saw the pre-order price and his heart stopped: 8000 U.S. Dollars. That was ridiculous! How could anything be that expensive? The red numbers seemed to burn into his tired retinas, and Dipper groaned, rubbing the lotion into his hands. This was ridiculous. Even if he had infinite cash to burn, he had nowhere to keep her. He imagined trying to hide a sex doll from Mabel or Grunkle Stan, but there was literally nowhere—and what about Piedmont? How would he take it home? God, this fixation was extremely unhealthy, and he needed…he needed…Dipper’s eyes focused on the words beneath the price, and his brain stuttered to a complete stop.

_Become a registered product tester, and receive a **FREE AISO SERIES FANTASY DOLL.**_

_This new line of high-quality pleasure dolls perfectly mimic the human body’s natural texture, pliability, and temperature. All models are designed to withstand a wide range of motion and come with fully poseable joints, a patented warmth simulator, and a hinged jaw. We are currently offering promotional models to the first five applicants located within 30 miles of our distribution center in Gravity Falls, Oregon. Successful applicants will be asked to submit a comprehensive product review and report any defects or problems they might encounter. Don’t let this opportunity pass you by! Apply now!_

Dipper hit the button without a second thought. It was probably a scam. Eventually, they’d ask for his credit card so they could bill him for all sorts of hidden fees and services, but he filled out his information anyway, giving the company his name, address, and cell phone number, lying through his teeth about his age and birthday. He scrolled blearily through a long-winded terms of service agreement, and clicked through to the order completion page.

That was it. No sketchy ads or requests for credit card information—not even to verify his age. Dipper frowned. That was strange, wasn’t it? Now that he thought about it, they really should have asked to verify his age, otherwise they might get in trouble for selling to a minor. Was there something in the terms of service? He’d only glanced at the first few lines, before clicking ‘agree,’ but he probably ought to double check to make sure they weren’t going to send heaps of porn advertisements to the Mystery Shack. With a vague sense of unease, Dipper managed to navigate back to the Terms of Service.

“It’s a bit late for that, kid.”  
  
Dipper screamed. The computer crashed to the floor as he pulled the sheets over his lap and scurried backwards, retreating from the glowing shape that had manifested above his bed. Bill Cipher laughed, spinning around to hover before the teen’s face.

“Man, I’ll never get tired of that. You’re hilarious, Pine Tree!”

“Bill!?” Dipper exclaimed, frantically trying to put himself away under the cotton barrier. “What the hell are you doing in my room!?”

“Making a delivery.” Bill said, and snapped his fingers. A limp figure fell onto the bed, falling sideways to rest on the frightened boy’s shoulder. Dipper recognized the red hair, and felt his heart drop like a stone. Shit.

“You—You hacked my computer!?”

“Sheesh, kid, I thought you figured this out when I took your body.” Bill leaned back, crossing his legs and pretending to examine his nonexistent fingernails. “You’re sitting in your bed at four in the morning, staring at a computer screen with bloodshot, sleep-deprived eyes, when suddenly, the girl of your dreams appears—keyword, DREAMS.”

Dipper groaned, smacking his face. Of course—the trick with Fiddleford’s old laptop, and how could he forget the techno-colored freaks Bill had extracted from Mabel’s head on their first trip to the mindscape? God, he’d been stupid. He should have known something was wrong the instant that pop-up appeared, but he’d been so preoccupied with…Oh, God. Dipper’s heart stuttered before leaping into his throat. Bill knew—Bill had been watching him, and he knew. Color crept up to his ears as the realization sunk in. How long had Bill been watching? No, scratch that—how _often_? Dipper’s fingers shook as the twisted in the sheet. “S-So what, you’re into voyeurism now? Do you watch everybody, or just me?”

“Voyeurism?” The demon repeated, tapping a spot under his bow-tie as several images flickered across his body in quick succession. Dipper recognized quite a few faces in the montage, and deeply wished he hadn’t. “I’m not sure that’s the right word. I keep an eye on anything that could affect my plans, but…” The images changed, and this time Dipper saw flashes of his own face, his own expressions. There were pictures he recognized, and some that he didn’t, and a good number weren’t even from Gravity Falls. With a jolt, Dipper saw the sheets from his bedroom in Piedmont, the familiar pattern twisting around the lanky lines of his body as it arched in pleasure. Struggling to breathe, the teenager tore his eyes away, wishing he’d never asked this question because he definitely wasn’t ready to face the answer. “Sure, I like watching you, Pine Tree. After all, I own that noodle-body, so it’s pretty easy to channel the stimulation. I even overshadowed you a few times, but you were too far gone to notice.”

“What?!” Dipper’s head jerked up, indignation pushing past his embarrassment and humiliation. “That deal was a total sham! You never even gave me the password! I don’t owe you anything!”

“Come on, kid!” Bill laughed, reverting to his usual yellow glow.  “I’ve been playing this game for centuries! You really think I’d make that kind of mistake? You left the specifics completely open to interpretation. I just used that to my advantage.”

“You BROKE the laptop! How was that helping?”

“I stopped the countdown, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but—”

“You're missing the point, Pine Tree.” Bill snapped his fingers, conjuring a familiar wheel around his triangular body. "Your meat suit’s mine—that’s a done deal. I let you live in it while it was convenient, but I’m only missing three pieces now,” The llama, ice bag, and shooting star glowed blue along the circle's circumference. “I can probably get Red on my own, but Shooting Star and Llama are more resilient than I expected.  So, unless you want to swear fealty to me, I’m going to need that suit.”

"What!? I’d never…” Dipper’s face fell as he looked over the rest of the wheel, noting the dimmed pine tree and question mark—the only other symbols he’d heard Bill use in place of names.  “Wait, what did you do to Soos?”

“Oh, nothing, really. I’ve had his soul claimed for years.” The wheel disappeared, and Bill’s eye curved in a mouthless smile. “I’m not even sure he knows. I had Stan Pines add a clause to his employment contract, but the old man is being extremely stubborn when it comes to you and your sister.”

“His soul?” Dipper’s brow furrowed as he frowned. “But I never…” The statement trailed off as he realized the implication.

“You did. That’s the funny thing about contracts, kid." Bill clapped his hands together, and the website terms of service appeared between his palms as he drew them apart. “They're binding whether or not you read them. All you had to do was scroll down—see? It’s not even written in legalese."

Dipper’s eyes moved down the text, his heart dropping lower with every word. It started out pretty normal with the usual legal jargon, then there was a pretty standard liability message, a warning that dolls may not match the model pictured, and finally: _In exchange for the aforementioned merchandise, I, Dipper Pines, do hereby surrender my immortal soul to Bill Cipher, granting him the unconditional right to use, relocate, destroy, or otherwise alter that soul at his discretion for all eternity._

“That’s not fair…” Pushing the doll away, Dipper looked up at triangle’s wide slit of a pupil. “Bill, you know it’s not.”

“I’m a demon, kid. What did you expect?” Bill rolled his eye and the terms of service vanished. “I have to admit, though, I’m surprised you fell for this. I’ve thrown contracts at you before—like when Bleeding Heart tried to get you to book his band for Stan’s Summerween party, or when Question Mark asked you to sign for that UPS package. That one was good, but it was almost impossible to set up. That guy’s skull is thicker than a brick and I can only do so much with just the soul. I got you in the end, though, and now that you’re out of the way, Shooting Star should be a cinch.”

A cold knot formed in Dipper’s stomach, icy tendrils creeping up to grip his heart. Mabel…What could he do? He had to tell her—had to do something. “I’ll never let you get her. I don’t care what you do with my soul, but you’re not getting Mabel’s.”

“I thought you might say that.” Bill crossed his arms, staring down at Dipper with a pensive expression. “See, normally I’d either hide the contract or threaten you into obedience, but I knew you’d figure this out, and killing you would cause all sorts of problems. Besides, I really do like you, Pine Tree. You’re smarter than most of the others, and I’d much rather have you on my side.”

“Yeah, because that’s gonna happen.” Dipper scoffed, crossing his arms in a last ditch attempt at bravado.

“I’ll wear you down, kid,” Bill laughed, looping a thin black arm around the boy’s shoulder, “but in the meantime…”

A jolt of heat rushed through Dipper’s body like lightning—no, it _was_ lightning, painful prickling energy that ripped his soul away from the cells of his body. The experience should have been familiar, but it wasn’t. It was different, horribly, terrifyingly different. Dipper’s entire being seemed to be crushed and compacted, caught between Bill’s fingers in a ball of pure energy. This was it. He was going to die. Bill was going to eat him, and he was never going to see Mabel again.

 _Relax, Pine Tree._ The demon’s voice rang through his head, vibrating in a way that made Dipper’s light flare in shades of luminescent green. _I’m not going to eat you. Just take a little time-out while I get things settled._

Dipper didn’t have much choice. He could barely move, let alone fight. This wasn’t right…he’d been to the mindscape so many times, but he’d always had some kind of body, solid or otherwise. He felt helpless and trapped, straining feebly against the demon’s grasp.  

 _That’s adorable, kid._ Bill’s voice seemed softer, almost pleasant, and after a moment, Dipper realized the grating echo was gone _. I wish I could keep you like this, but you’d find your form in no time, and I can’t have you getting in my way._

The demon’s words sent a strange flutter through his core, and Dipper barely noticed when the pressure lifted. Suddenly, he was stretching along a familiar path, filling arms and legs with the tingling rush of life—except he wasn’t alive, not the way he should be. This wasn’t his body. Dipper could see his body, and it wasn't a reflection. He recognized the wide yellow eyes, and knew it had to be Bill. The demon was leaning over him, pupils dilated to pinpricks as he stared directly into Dipper’s eyes, his face slack with that creepy demonic expression.

Seething, Dipper tried to lift his arms, intending to shove the stupid body thief off him, or at least throw a few spectral punches, but...he couldn’t move. He tried to open his mouth to complain, but his lips wouldn’t budge. Even his eyelids seemed to be carved open. His entire body was heavy, solid, and still as a statue…because he was a statue. With dawning horror, Dipper realized where he was—what he was, and his consciousness shook with a mind-wrenching internal scream.

“Sheesh, don’t blow a gasket.” Bill-Dipper, or Bipper as Mable had so accurately named him, blinked, the blank expression evaporating as he leaned forward, resting a palm on the captive boy’s stomach. “I know it feels weird, but you’ll get used to it eventually.”

Dipper felt vaguely sick as he felt the smooth residue of lotion. He wasn’t meant to be here. He didn’t _want_ to be here. The tendrils of his consciousness twisted, struggling to pull away from the dead limbs, searching for a way out because anything was better than this weighted prison.

“Oh, Pine Tree…you are _exactly_ where you’re supposed to be.” Bill laughed, and sparks of electricity prickled across Dipper’s stomach. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you? I mean, sure, I was always going to take your soul, but that stunt you pulled at your sister’s play…” The demon grinned, stretching Dipper’s mouth in a way that looked almost sinister. “You’re the most valuable piece on the board, kid. Don’t get me wrong, the Stan twins pack a punch, but neither of them could possess an inanimate vessel, and I doubt they could survive what I just did to you.”

Dipper wasn’t sure what to make of that statement. Even after years of hunting monsters, he didn’t feel especially powerful. Knowledgeable, maybe, but not powerful. Dipper had a firsthand view of his scrawny torso right now, and the sight was just as underwhelming as it always had been. It also didn’t change the fact that he was currently a sex toy.

“An adorable sex toy.” The demon grinned, “That vessel’s no sock-puppet, but I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually.”

 _I’d rather be a puppet._ Dipper thought bitterly, since the triangle could obviously hear him. _I hate the way this feels—it’s not even the right gender._

“Please, you really think I’d put you in that cheap pubescent fantasy?” Bill lifted a mirror off Mabel’s bedside table, and flopped down next to the doll, holding it so they were both reflected on its surface. For a second, Dipper thought he’d been copied again, but he couldn’t fit on the machine’s platen anymore, and even Paper Jam Dipper had been more expressive than this lifeless clone. Besides, it looked older than he was, with clear skin and a sharper jaw line. No, this was Fantasy Dipper—a Dipper Pines with a dashing smile and clean pants, who could execute flawless dance moves and dazzle Wendy with intelligent conversation. In other words, a Dipper Pines who didn’t exist. The mirror snapped shut, and the demon tossed it back onto Mabel’s side of the room. “No offense, kid, but you need some new material, and I’d much rather have you like this.”

 _Shut up!_ Dipper shivered, straining against the false limbs again. There was something about Bill’s wording that set alarm bells ringing in his head, and suddenly he _really_ wanted to move. _You can’t keep me here._ _Someone’s going to find me, and when they do, Mabel will figure out who you are._

“Oh, I’m not going to keep you here.” Bill explained, trailing a finger over the doll’s chest in slow circles, and Dipper felt almost dizzy with the motion. “I’ve got plans for you, kid, but I can’t do anything until I have your loyalty. Just swear yourself to me, and you can have this filthy meat sack.”

 _No way! You’re trying to steal my sister’s soul! I’d never—_ A painful jolt of electricity shot through Dipper’s core, and he cried out, arching away from the demon’s energy, but there was no escape. Bill was leaning over him again, eyes glowing red as his fingers pressed into the silicon vessel, threatening to tear the synthetic material.

“You’re mine, Pine Tree.” Bill leaned down, red eyes fading to yellow as his touch softened. Static trailed after his fingers as they slid up to caress the doll’s cheek. Dipper shivered and squirmed, but his spirit seemed to be tethered to a spot just above the doll’s heart. If he concentrated, he could regulate the flow of energy in his limbs, but he couldn’t retract it completely. Bill’s thumb traced down the line of his neck, and suddenly the contact seemed entirely too personal—like Bill was touching a part of him that wasn’t meant to be exposed, but then, this body didn’t have nerve endings or chemical urges, so maybe the demon really was touching his soul. Something like a heart pulsed at the boy’s center as Bill’s energy buzzed through him, resonating with little waves of heat, and he felt…he felt… “You’re mine, and I won’t stop until I own every last piece of you. Say yes. Swear yourself to me now, and I won’t have to break you.”

 _N-No!_ Dipper forced the words to form in his consciousness, _I won’t help you—I never will!_

“You can’t play the hero forever.” Bill kissed the doll’s mouth, and Dipper felt a pang of shock and confusion. It was entirely unexpected, and for a moment he could almost taste the demon on his lips. His mind went numb, refusing to process the gesture. “Sooner or later you’re going to fall, and I’ll be waiting to pick up the pieces.”

Teeth scraped against his lower lip, and Bill’s fingers buzzed down his chest. _Get off me, Bill! This isn’t funny!_

The demon laughed, sucking and biting at strategic locations as he led the fire down Dipper’s torso, stretching his spirit and kneading it into specific parts of the doll’s body. Guilty panic flashed through Dipper’s mind, because the heat was stirring urges he shouldn’t be able to feel without a functioning human body. His thoughts were losing coherence, and when Bill’s mouth brushed along the inside of his thigh he felt a rush of pleasure that he couldn’t deny. This, whatever this was, easily topped any of his past experiences, and Dipper couldn’t even tell if he was hard or not—that is, until the demon’s mouth touched the tip, and okay, yeah he was, though it probably wouldn’t have mattered either way. Bill dragged his tongue from base to tip and Dipper felt the area vibrate with pooling energy. This wasn’t right. Bill was conspiring to ruin everything about his life, and he was reacting in all the wrong ways. Fire raged through his spirit, eradicating all notions of right and wrong. He couldn’t even blame teenage hormones for this betrayal, because he was nothing but energy, and every spark of his being was screaming for more. More...he wanted— _Stop! Please, stop! Bill, I can’t do this! I don’t—AH!_

Hot moisture closed around his tip, sucking the silicon down, deeper and deeper, encasing it soft, human flesh. At the very edge of his vision, Dipper could just see the disheveled brown hair lift, bobbing up and down as Bill worked his throat around the doll’s erection. The sensation grew, mounting in intensity as the demon abused his trachea, and somewhere a speck of the boy’s consciousness found time to wonder how his old body could even manage such a task. It certainly didn’t have any practical experience. Bill lifted his head, trailing his tongue up the last few inches, and Dipper saw actual static flash across his tip as they parted.

“I’ll stop if you want, Pine Tree.” The demon grinned, eyes glowing pale yellow as they fixed on the doll’s face. “But you’ll have to ask out loud.”

Dipper’s screamed in frustration, cursing at Bill with every foul phrase he could think of, including several in Yiddish. _I can’t! You know I can’t, you scalene piece of trash!_

Bill’s eyes narrowed, his palm pausing on the doll’s knee. “You take that back.”

 _Take what back?_ Dipper pulled away, trying to redirect the flow of energy away from his kneecap. Every place Bill touched seemed to anchor him more securely, locking him in the synthetic body and stitching his soul into the lifeless molecules. The demon’s fingers closed around his ankle, and Dipper bit back a mental cry as heat raced down to his toes.

“I’ll have you know all three of my sides are perfectly equilateral.” Bill said as he pushed the doll’s legs apart. Dipper heard whispered clicks as the metal skeleton held its position, and the sound made him lightheaded with fear. Nothing good would come of this. He was losing more ground by the second, and as Bill propped up his back, he saw the demon fish the lotion from the tangled sheet. “I might slide toward isosceles on occasion, but I’d never be caught dead in scalene.”

 _O-okay, well, why don’t you prove it?_ He thought, grasping for anything that might distract the demon, because the cap was open, and Bill was squeezing a line of strawberry scented moisturizer onto his fingers. _Give my body back and I’ll get a tape measure._

After a pronounced moment of silence, the demon blinked and burst out laughing. “Th-that’s priceless! Oh boy, kid, you have no idea how much I wish I could let you measure me.” He shook his head, looking down at Dipper with an expression that was almost gentle. “One day you’ll ask, and you’ll really mean it, but until then…this is the last thing I can take without your consent.”

Dipper’s brain went white as he felt the cool moisture press against him, sliding into an orifice that had been designed specifically for this purpose. The teenage boy shivered from head to toe, lost in a white haze of denial and fear. It didn’t matter that this wasn’t a real body. It didn’t matter that Bill was in his. He could feel the demon’s energy biting into the textured silicon walls, and if it felt like this with his fingers, he didn’t want to imagine what real penetration would be like. _Please…Bill, please don’t…_

“Out loud, Pine Tree.” Bill pulled off Dipper’s T-shirt, and tossed the sweat-stained garment on the floor. “Say it out loud or tell me you’ll be mine forever.”

Dipper tried—he really did. If he could just move the doll’s mouth…it had been easy enough with the sock puppets, hadn’t it? The entire audience had heard his disembodied voice when he’d moved the decorated socks, so it really shouldn’t matter that the doll didn’t have a functioning respiratory system. He tried focusing on the lips, using every ounce of his willpower as he begged the jaw to move, but Bill was sliding Dipper’s pajama bottoms down, and the sight of his own erection made concentration next to impossible. It looked a lot bigger from this vantage point, which was pretty ironic, given his earlier doubts about size and adequacy.

“Last chance, kid.” Bill pulled those stolen lips in a crooked smile, stroking himself with another generous helping of lotion. “It’s been way too long since I felt human pleasure, and you were half hard before we even started. I’m not going to waste this by coming in your hand.”

Oh, holy fuck—this wasn’t happening. This really, really wasn’t happening. Something was burning inside him as he watched Bill’s hand move up and down that familiar shaft, and it wasn’t any kind of feeling he recognized. It was terrifying—more frightening than Bill’s threats, and he couldn’t make it go away. He couldn’t make it stop. He didn’t want it to stop.

The demon pushed him back onto the bed, positioning himself at the doll’s entrance, his eyes glowing bright yellow in the dark attic. “Pine Tree…”

Sparks burst across Dipper’s consciousness as Bill’s length breached him, stretching the lubricated silicon. The doll’s back clicked as a silent scream washed across his mind, and finally—finally his mouth moved. “Bill…”

The yellow eyes widened, blinking in surprise. Then, Bill smiled, burying himself inside the doll as he leaned in to kiss the boy’s lips. “Do you want me to stop?”

The doll’s face moved, twisting in an expression that reflected the sixteen-year-old’s internal turmoil. How could Bill ask that now? How could he even consider such a deceptively gentle question? Dipper bit his lip, and moaned as Bill began to pull out. He could feel the same rush of energy, but it was so strong it almost registered as pain…almost. He should say yes, tell Bill to stop. It couldn’t hurt to try, but the words wouldn’t come. His mind was floating in a sea of fire and Bill was literally glowing. Luminescent pink flushed the demon’s skin, and Dipper’s consciousness flashed with a host of urges he could barely understand. He had to say it, and he had to say it now. Lips parted, he looked up at Bill through the haze, his mind reeling with internal conflict. _Stop! Don’t stop! Stop! No! More—MORE!_

“N…no…” His voice came out in a whisper, barely audible over the creak of the mattress as Bill pushed back in. A slow rhythm started to rock the bedframe, and the demon’s thumb brushed against the doll’s cheek in a gesture that seemed genuinely affectionate.

“Good.” The other replied, and the light of his eyes made Dipper’s head swim with need. He felt Bill’s fingers in his hair, felt the way his body pressed against the sheets with every thrust, and every little motion sent raw power singing through the silicon. Heat burned along those carefully constructed tethers, collecting in his soul until Dipper honestly thought he might explode. And Bill’s face—his face—was flushed with color, lips open as the stolen body gasped for air. It was shockingly erotic, and he almost didn’t care when Bill kissed his lips and whispered. “Say yes, Pine Tree…”

The word danced at the tip of Dipper’s tongue, and his lips were halfway open before he caught himself, shock and horror beating against the building pleasure. “N-NO!” He cried, then gasped as Bill’s fingers cut into the doll’s shoulders. Blue fire lit across Dipper’s old body, racing up his arms and circling his silhouette in a demonic halo.  


͈͓̹̺ͣ̍̅ͬͅ"́͊̓̐ͩ̅.̨̘̠̤͊ͭ̉̇ṣ͙̱͎͔͏ͮ̐̊e̛̫̼͌̎͊̽̚nͩ̾ͪ̒ͫ͛̋i͕ͭͫ̆͠P̗̙̬̠̻͗͊ ̝̲̝̩̗҉͋̿̏͆̑̊̔r̗͒͑e̗̗̖̥͉̭̠̋ͯͣ͑͑̓͂p̀͌ͣ̍ͭp͍ͣͤiͦ̏D͖̫ͦ̈́̌̽̐ ̜̮͈͑̑̐ͦ̐͊ͦ,̧̂ͥ̄̒e̛̘͍̙̗͉͋̂̒͌́n̩̹͙͓͚͒i̸̹̲ͭ̉͐̚m̨̹̗͇͉̥ͩ̋ ͈̜̩͍͚͓e̾̍̌ͥ̉̍r͇̠͖͎̝҉̒ͣͨ̋͌á̬̘ ̸̝̖̖̾̀̿͐̚ù̠͖̙̬̖̟̼̿̚o͇̯̘͖̍͗ͫY̷ͬͦͥͣ"

  
The familiar mouth moved with sounds that couldn't possibly be human, and Dipper screamed, arching back as fear pushed him over the edge, rupturing the building energy in a pulse of static that skittered across the bed sheets and made his bedside lamp shatter with a resounding pop. His mind went blank, and he fell, tumbling into darkness with the after-image of blue light burning into his subconscious.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, that was fun! I think I've reached the lower levels of triangle hell now, in case anyone was wondering. Chapter Two will have Gideon! Joy! Also, please decode the chapter title and laugh at my cleverness. [ Here's the decoder.](http://themysteryofgravityfalls.com/)


End file.
